It's A Fair Wind That Blew Men

Every Desire Bears Its Death In Its Very Gratification. Curiosity Languishes Under Repeated Stimulants, And Novelties Cease To Excite And Surprise, Until At Length We Cannot Wonder Even At A Miracle.

Into The Space Of One Little Hour Sins Enough May Be Conjured Up By Evil Tongues To Blast The Fame Of A Whole Life Of Virtue.

Surely Happiness Is Reflective, Like The Light Of Heaven; And Every Countenance, Bright With Smiles, And Glowing With Innocent Enjoyment, Is A Mirror Transmitting To Others The Rays Of A Supreme And Ever-shining Benevolence.

It Is But Seldom That Any One Overt Act Produces Hostilities Between Two Nations; There Exists, More Commonly, A Previous Jealousy And Ill Will, A Predisposition To Take Offense.

The Scholar Only Knows How Dear These Silent, Yet Eloquent, Companions Of Pure Thoughts And Innocent Hours Become In The Season Of Adversity. When All That Is Worldly Turns To Dross Around Us, These Only Retain Their Steady Value.